


Perfectly Normal

by TodayWe_Are_Infinite



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bullying, Childhood Friends, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, M/M, One Shot, Phan Comfort, Phan Drabble, Phanfiction, amazing phil - Freeform, blue neighbourhood - Freeform, danisnotonfire - Freeform, phan fiction, troye sivan inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:18:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5163587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TodayWe_Are_Infinite/pseuds/TodayWe_Are_Infinite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan was 10 when he realized that the way he looked at his friend wasn’t normal. And people had started to notice.</p><p>He refused to tell his mother why he was sent to the nurse’s office with a bloody nose.</p><p>He tried not to tell Phil either, but his friend was excellent at coaxing things out of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was (re)watching Troye Sivan's Blue Neighbourhood trilogy, and I absolutely love the two little boys in them, they melt my heart... so then this happened. 
> 
> Let me know what you think <3 I might do a few more one-shots as they grow up if people like it!

Dan was 10 when he realized that the way he looked at his friend wasn’t normal. It wasn’t normal to notice the way Phil’s eyes matched the sky and the grass at the same time. Wasn’t normal to love looking at Phil’s mouth when he laughed, to see the way his tongue poked out when he was really happy. It definitely wasn’t normal to watch Phil across the playground at lunch and recess, hoping he would leave his friends and come over to see Dan.

He never did.

Dan knew he would if he could (Phil had told him so), but the year sevens weren’t supposed to cross over to the junior school, so Dan had to content himself with watching.

Except that now people had started to notice. And they didn’t like it. Because it wasn’t normal.

Dan refused to tell his mother why he was sent to the nurse’s office with a bloody nose.

“It was an accident,” he mumbled, and she shook her head in disbelief. He heard her yelling in the principal’s office, and he tried to plug his ears.

He tried not to tell Phil either, but his friend was excellent at coaxing things out of him.

“Come on,” Phil whispered from Dan’s bedroom window. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Dan sat up slowly, his head throbbing.

“I’ll get in trouble,” he whispered slowly, groggy from sleep. His voice sounded strange and nasally, and he wondered vaguely if that meant his nose was broken. “It’s past 10.”

Phil shook his head and smiled, wrinkling his nose the way Dan loved.

“Don’t worry,” he said, holding out his hand to Dan, “they won’t know. I’ll tell them it was my fault.”

Dan went, because of course he did.

He let Phil pull him through the back gate and onto the field behind their houses. He let him lead them over the grassy ridge to the copse of trees on the other side, where they couldn’t be seen from home, but they weren’t far enough away to feel dangerous. They stopped there, where they always did, and Phil flopped down onto the grass.

It was towards the end of May, and the air still felt reasonably warm. It hadn’t rained for a couple days, so the grass was dry. Phil looked up at Dan and smiled, but something about it seemed off.

“Are you going to sit down?” Phil asked, his voice at a normal pitch now.

Dan shrugged wordlessly and clasped his hands together. He was nervous. He didn’t want to tell Phil what had happened, but he knew that if Phil asked, he would.

Phil tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together, just a little.

“Come on, Dan,” he said, “sit down.”

Dan sank down beside his friend, his eyes fixed on the grass below them.

They both sat in silence for several long moments, and Dan felt himself relaxing.

“Does it hurt?” Phil asked quietly. Dan shrugged.

“A little.”

Phil made a strange noise in his throat, and Dan looked at him. Phil was frowning.

“What?” Dan asked.

“You’re going to have a black eye.”

Dan shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

“It’s bruised already.”

Dan reached a hand gingerly up to his nose. The skin felt swollen, and he winced when he accidentally pressed too hard.

Phil’s frown grew deeper.

“What happened?”

Dan looked away uncomfortably.

“Nothing,” he murmured.

Phil was silent. Dan glanced over at him anxiously, but his friend didn’t look upset. Phil smiled and lay down, staring up at the sky.

“If you watch closely, you can see the stars through the leaves,” he said after a moment. Phil looked back at Dan and smiled again, patting the grass.

Dan hesitated, and then lay down carefully beside Phil. His head was pounding terribly now, and the cool grass felt nice against his neck. He turned and laid his cheek against the grass and closed his eyes.

“Why did they hurt you?” Phil whispered, and something about his voice made Dan close his eyes tighter.

“Dan?” Phil said after a minute. “Why would they hurt you?”

“I don’t know,” said Dan, and his voice sounded very small, even to him. He heard Phil sigh, heard his friend shifting against the grass. Then he felt a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes. Phil was closer than before, and his face was a mixture of sadness and anger. Dan chewed on the inside of his cheek. Phil just waited.

“Because I’m not normal,” Dan said finally, unable to keep the words inside any longer. It came out as a bit of a sob, and Dan flushed, embarrassed.

Phil’s eyes widened, and he moved minutely closer.

“What do you mean you’re not normal?”

Dan clenched his hands into fists, and tried desperately not to let himself cry.

“They don’t like that I’m friends with you.”

Phil’s expression changed. He looked confused.

“With me? Why not? Why does that matter?”

Dan shrugged, looking away awkwardly. Phil shook his arm, just a little.

“Dan? What did they say? What do you mean?”

“They think it’s weird that I watch you when I’m on the playground.”

Phil went very still.

“You do?” he said finally, and Dan could tell he was upset. Of course he was. What a stupid thing to admit.

“Sometimes,” he said in a whisper. “I watch you playing football, and I pretend that I’m playing with you. The boys in my year are all chavs anyway.”

“You can come and play football next year,” Phil said, and Dan shook his head, finally looking back over at him.

“I can’t, I’ll only be in year six.”

Phil nodded.

“Exactly, and you’ll be in the senior school, with me.”

“Not with you. You’re going to be in year eight. No one in year eight wants to hang out with a year six.”

“I do,” said Phil fiercely, and his hand on Dan’s shoulder grew tighter. “I always want to be with you.”

Something in Dan’s stomach flipped, and he held his breath at the strange feeling. Was this what those boys meant? Was this one of the “poof things” they were talking about? He wondered why it was bad, because it only felt nice.

“I always want to be with you too,” he whispered, and Phil smiled. Dan smiled back.

“Were they jealous or something?” Phil asked, and Dan frowned at the rapid change of topics.

“Jealous?”

“Jealous that you have a friend in year seven?”

Dan laughed a little, and Phil rolled his eyes.

“I’m not trying to say I make you cool or anything. I just don’t understand why they did it.”

Dan’s laughter caught in his throat, and he closed his mouth quickly.

Phil’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“They said something else, didn’t they?”

Dan shook his head, but stopped when it hurt his nose. Phil reached out and laid one cool, gentle finger against the bridge of Dan’s nose. Dan shivered at the contact, and closed his eyes. That felt good.

“What else did they say?” Phil asked again. Dan felt very tired, and strange, and small, and he realized there wasn’t even a point in trying to keep it from Phil because Phil was sure to notice on his own eventually. Dan might as well get it over with now. If he was going to lose Phil, he would rather it happen now, than four years from now, when they were even better friends.

“They said I need to stop acting like a poof around you,” he said, his voice cracking in embarrassment. Phil didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move his hand from Dan’s arm, or his finger from Dan’s aching nose. Dan felt a little braver, especially with his eyes closed. “They said if I don’t stop, I’m going to scare you away.” His voice broke, and he felt his lip trembling. He had started crying when they said that, when they told him Phil was too cool for him anyway. That’s when one of them had punched him. For being a cry-baby poof. Dan wasn’t even sure if he properly knew what a poof was, and he wondered if they did either.

Phil was still quiet, and Dan took a deep breath, trying to force back the hot feeling behind his eyelids. He could feel his hands shaking.

Phil’s hand left his arm then, and Dan wished he would put it back. But was that normal? What was normal?

Dan flinched when a finger brushed across his cheek, and then froze.

“You’re crying,” said Phil anxiously. “Why are you crying?”

Dan squirmed in shame. Phil brushed another finger over his cheek as another tear escaped.

“Please don’t cry, Dan,” Phil said. His voice sounded upset.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Dan whispered before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was saying. He hadn’t known that the thought had been in his mind before, but as soon as he said it, he knew it had.

“Hey,” Phil said, and he was angry now. Dan opened his eyes just a crack. Phil was staring at him, his face intense. “That’s a stupid thing to say. Why would I hate you?”

Dan closed his eyes again, but Phil moved his hands away and sat up, pulling Dan up with him. Dan made an involuntary sound as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his head.

“Sorry,” Phil whispered sheepishly. Then his face grew serious. “You need to tell me what you mean, Dan, because I don’t get it. Why would I ever hate you?”

Dan was frustrated. With himself, with the boys who had surrounded him, with Phil for not getting it. He wove his fingers deep into the grass and took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Because they’re right,” he said, and his eyes felt hot, and his chest felt tight. “They’re right, I do like to look at you. And I don’t have any other friends, because I do like spending time with you, only you. And I’m not normal, I’m strange, and all I want to do is- is-” Dan broke off, and he was crying now, for real. He gulped in air and waited for Phil to leave.

It was silent for a very long time.

And then Phil’s fingers brushed against the back of Dan’s hand where it lay in the grass. And Phil carefully, slowly wound his fingers around Dan’s.

“But Dan,” he said, and Dan’s head felt very light, “it doesn’t matter what they say, because they’re wrong. I would never hate you. And you could never scare me away, because I’m exactly the same as you.”

Dan looked at Phil, but it was hard to concentrate, because he was trying to decide why he liked the feeling of Phil’s hand in his so much.

“You’re the same as me?”

Phil nodded, and his smile was a little embarrassed.

“Of course.”

And he squeezed Dan’s hand gently.

“Besides,” he added, “I think you’re perfectly normal. I think you’re perfectly great.”

Dan lay back down. Phil lay down beside him, not letting go of his hand. Dan looked up at the sky and smiled. Phil was right; you could see the stars through the leaves. So maybe everything was going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil are a little older now, and Dan is beginning to discover a bit more about himself. But he still doesn't understand why it always ends up this way. With shades of blue and purple across his skin, and whispered conversations with the only person who matters. 
> 
> He often wonders if Phil knows what he's thinking, and feeling. 
> 
> Surely not. Phil wouldn’t be here if he did, would he? Dan isn't sure. He never really knows what to think. He doesn't know what's good or bad, or right or wrong, or okay or unacceptable. He doesn't know anything at all except that he really, really likes the feeling of Phil holding his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed my little Dan and Phil, so I decided to come back to them for Christmas. 
> 
> They're a bit older now, and I have some ideas for a few more after this... so please kudos and comment if you like it! :) 
> 
> This was supposed to go up a couple days ago, but oh well. 
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!! <3 xx

“Come outside, Dan.”

Dan screwed himself up into a tighter ball, yanking his quilt over his head and pressing his forehead against the wall at the far end of his bed.

“Come out,” Phil said, his voice a little louder, his tapping on the partially open window a little stronger. “If you don’t, I’m coming in.”

Dan shook his head, shoving his fingers into his ears against the sound of his friend’s voice.

He heard Phil speak again, heard the window slide open, heard Phil’s feet land gently against his floorboards. But he stayed where he was.

He wasn’t hiding from Phil, not really.

He felt the mattress dip as Phil sat down.

“Dan,” Phil whispered, his voice coming from right behind Dan’s head. “Just talk to me.”

Dan shook his head again and he heard Phil sigh.

There was a long moment of silence, and then he felt Phil lie down beside him. The bed wasn’t big, and Dan curled further into himself in an attempt not to let any part of his body touch Phil’s.

“Who do I need to hurt?”

There was anger in his voice, but Phil’s question was soft, and Dan felt himself calm down, just a tiny bit. His lips curled upwards involuntarily at the thought of Phil even contemplating hurting another person.

“No one,” Dan whispered, and he felt Phil relax against his back. He felt a little bad, so he moved the quilt away from his head.

Phil didn’t talk again for a few minutes, and Dan was grateful. He needed time to figure out what to say.

“You should change schools,” Phil said finally, “finish year seven somewhere else.” Dan turned to him without meaning to. The proposition was so out of the blue that he couldn’t even help it.

“What?” he asked, his voice as surprised as he felt.

Phil sucked in a breath, the air hissing through his teeth.

“Oh god,” the older boy murmured, and Dan immediately turned away again, lifting his hands to his face. He could feel tears pricking against his eyes, hot and angry. He hated this. He hated Phil seeing him like this.

Why did it always end up this way? With shades of blue and purple across his skin, and whispered conversations when no one else could hear?  

“That’s worse than usual,” Phil said after a moment, his voice carefully relaxed.

Dan shrugged.

“Feels the same.”

It was a lie. It didn’t feel the same. It felt like someone he trusted had thrown that trust to the wind. To the vicious, angry, biting wind.

“Alex was there too?”

Phil knew. Phil always knew.

Dan swallowed hard. He closed his eyes.

“Yes.”

“He didn’t stop them?”

“No,” he whispered, and then hated what Phil would be able to hear in the whisper.

Phil wiggled a little closer on the bed, and Dan felt him roll over onto his side, facing Dan.

“Fuck him,” Phil whispered fiercely. “He was never really your friend to begin with. So just… fuck him.”

Dan was surprised enough by the profanity to let down his guard again. He turned to look at Phil, his mouth open in protest, but all words died on his lips.

Phil was so close. Phil was so… _Phil_.

Dan swallowed again, this time not to ward off tears, but because his throat was suddenly dry.

“I’m so sorry,” whispered Phil, and Dan blinked at him.

“For what?”

“Everything. They wouldn’t do that if it weren’t for me.”

Dan rolled his eyes- then winced and wished he hadn’t- unwilling to have this discussion yet again.

“You know they would, so shut up.”

Phil made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, and turned away.

“It’s so _stupid_ ,” he said, louder than Dan would have liked. “Why do they do it? I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” Dan said, because he wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t.

Phil turned to look at him again, and his face was strange.

“Why?”

Dan shrugged, looking away. They were very close.

“It just is.”

“Now you’re being stupid,” and his voice was harsher than Dan had ever heard Phil used towards him before. “If it’s okay then they might as well keep doing it, right? If it doesn’t matter to you.”

“I didn’t say that,” said Dan angrily, sitting up. Phil sat up too, turning to face him fully.

“You might as well have.”

Dan stared at Phil, his eyebrows creased into a frown, despite the pain it was sending through his face.

Phil’s face stayed angry for a moment longer, and then his expression broke, and he bit his lip.

“It isn’t okay, Dan,” Phil said, his voice much quieter than before. “It _isn’t_ okay. You don’t deserve it.”

“How do you know?”

Phil paused, and suddenly his answer mattered very much. Dan held his breath and looked down at his hands.

“Because you’re a thousand times better than any of them combined. And because you’re my best friend. And because everyone should understand how lucky I am.”

Dan couldn’t swallow, and he was very aware of how hot his cheeks felt all of a sudden.

Phil reached a tentative hand over to Dan’s, and Dan felt his body freeze at the touch.

He didn’t move, didn’t make Phil stop. Because he knew, deep down, that Phil was wrong. That Dan deserved every name they called him, every punch they threw, every ounce of hate they hurled at him. Because they were right, and Phil was wrong.

Dan _wasn’t_ normal. No matter how many times his parents and brother and Phil said otherwise, no matter how many meetings and trips they all made to the principal’s office, no matter how many new anti-bullying policies were put into place, Dan knew the truth. And so did his classmates.

He wasn’t normal.

Because it wasn’t normal to want to kiss your best mate, was it?

“It’s almost Christmas,” Phil said, his voice cracking a little. He still hadn’t moved his hand from Dan’s, and Dan felt like he was about to scream. “Two whole weeks without classes,” continued Phil, his voice growing brighter. “Two whole weeks of just me and you and our families. No one else. No one stupid to wreck everything.”

The idea did sound good.

“Yeah?” Dan whispered, still unable to look at Phil. He wondered if Phil knew what he was thinking. Surely not. Phil wouldn’t be here if he did, would he? Dan wasn’t sure. He never really knew what to think. He didn’t know what was good or bad, or right or wrong, or okay or unacceptable. He didn’t know anything at all except that he really, _really_ liked the feeling of Phil holding his hand.

“Yes,” answered Phil firmly, squeezing Dan’s hand a little in confirmation. “I promise. I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with anyone else.”

Dan smiled down at the covers and Phil squeezed his hand again.

“So just two more days of school, yeah? Just two more days and then it’s just me and you. We’ll have a better Christmas than any of those wankers could ever dream of having.”

Dan laughed. Phil swearing always made him laugh, and his friend knew it. He finally looked up. Phil was smiling back eagerly, and Dan was struck again, like he was nearly every day, by just how lucky he was to know him.

“And in the new year,” said Phil, his voice getting even softer, “I’ll make sure no one hurts you again.”

Dan felt the smile fall from his face.

“Stop it,” he whispered.

Phil shook his head.

“I mean it. If I have to beat up every single person in that grimy school, I’ll do it. Even the girls.”

Dan laughed once, half-heartedly, knowing it was what Phil wanted.

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. Phil’s thumb wandered absently over one of Dan’s knuckle for one single, brief moment, and Dan hoped he would do it again.

“You’ll see,” Phil said, his voice easy, “it’ll all be different after Christmas.”

“Okay,” said Dan again, mostly to appease Phil, because what on earth could his friend do?

Phil nodded decisively.

“Okay.”

They looked at each other silently for a moment, and then Phil’s eyes lit up into a smile.

“So… Happy Christmas, Dan,” he said.

Dan rolled his eyes.

“It’s not Christmas yet, you dork.”

Phil wrinkled his nose and shrugged.

“Well it’s almost Christmas,” he defended, his smile growing wider.

Dan studied his face for what was probably a beat too long, because he could feel all the blood rushing to his head again, and his cheeks began to heat up. He looked away for a moment before looking back. Phil’s blue eyes were still watching him. Dan swallowed.

“Happy almost Christmas then, Phil,” he whispered.

Phil’s smile grew, and he squeezed Dan’s hand once again.

“Happy almost Christmas, Dan.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple years older, and something happens to Dan one night. 
> 
> And he needs his friend, like he always does. 
> 
> And Phil is there for him, like he always is. 
> 
> But Dan knows that they're growing up, and everything is going to change when Phil goes to uni. And, despite what Phil says, he's not entirely sure that everything will okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got even more sad. I'm sorry. 
> 
> I promise I have a happier idea still coming, and it won't take me five thousand years to update next time xx

 

 

Dan could feel his whole body shaking as he quietly slid open Phil’s bedroom window, and climbed carefully inside.

Phil was sure to be asleep by now, and he didn’t want to scare him, but he needed… something.

He moved towards Phil’s bed, certain this wasn’t acceptable, but not really caring right now.

He could see him now, fast asleep and curled up on one side of his bed, black hair swept away from his face.

Dan hesitated only a minute before lifting up the cover and sliding in.

Phil woke up as soon as Dan lay down, opening his eyes and staring at Dan.

He didn’t move, or cry out, and after a moment he inched his way closer to give Dan more blanket.

“Dan,” he whispered after several long minutes.

Dan could hear his own breath coming out in short gasps, and he tried to stifle the sound.

“Dan, what happened?”

There was no point in keeping it from him. No point. Phil knew everything anyway.

“I kissed someone.”

Phil didn’t respond immediately, blinking back at Dan slowly, giving him a chance to elaborate.

“Well,” said Dan after a moment, struggling to choose his words, “they kissed me.”

“Was it Erik?” Phil asked, and terror filled Dan’s chest, clawing at him to say no, say no, deny it, don’t let anyone know.

“Yes,” he managed to get out, the single word strangled in his throat.

Phil nodded, sure and slow, like he had known all along. He probably had.

“Did you want to?”

Dan closed his eyes. Had he wanted to? He didn’t remember. It had happened so fast. One minute they were sitting on an empty playground climbing tower, talking about movies, and the next Erik’s hands had been in his hair, lips moving against his, hot and fast.

Had he wanted it?

He hadn’t _not_ wanted it.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, his eyes still closed. He didn’t want to see the expression on Phil’s face.

“Did you like it?”

“I don’t know,” Dan repeated, miserably. This was the moment Phil should push him away, make him leave, shut him out.

There was a beat of silence.

“That’s okay,” Phil said, moving closer and putting his arm around Dan.

Dan stiffened, but Phil just pulled him closer, and his body relaxed involuntarily at the familiar contact. Tremors began to wrack through him, and Phil’s grip grew tighter.

“It’s okay, Dan,” he whispered into Dan’s hair, and Dan _wished_.

“Don’t hate me,” Dan whispered through clenched teeth, and Phil shook his head.

“I could never hate you,” he said, his breath tickling Dan’s forehead. “You know that.”

Phil held him until the shaking had stopped, and then he waited a little while longer to pull away.

Dan sighed and turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling, teeth worrying at his bottom lip.

Phil waited.

“Do you think I’m gay?” Dan asked, the word strange and bitter in his mouth. But he wasn’t really asking.

“Do _you_ think you’re gay?”

Dan chewed at his lip until he could taste blood.

“Are you scared?” Phil asked after a moment, and Dan made a noise in the back of his throat.

It was quiet again.

“Dan,” whispered Phil suddenly, and Dan turned to look at him. “Can I tell you something?”

Dan nodded silently.

“It doesn’t matter. None of it. I don’t care.”

Dan let out a long breath, and Phil shook his head.

“I hope you know that. You’re the same Dan today that you were when you were five, and a word isn’t going to make me any less eager to keep beating you at Mario Kart every weekend, and listening to the new Muse album until our ears fall off. It’s just a word, Dan, and words don’t matter too much.”

“It does matter,” said Dan, and the words sounded rough.

“It matters,” Phil conceded. “But not to me. Not in a bad way.”

“What if I wanted to kiss you?” Dan whispered, his throat tightening in panic as the words left his mouth. “Would you hate me then?”

Phil froze, and an odd look flashed across his face.

Dan wanted to lean over and test it out then and there.

But then the expression was gone.

“When will you stop expecting me to hate you?” Phil finally said, his voice low. “You’ve been acting like it’s just around the corner for years now, and I wish you would stop.”

Phil moved closer, and Dan reminded himself to keep breathing.

“I will never hate you, Dan Howell,” Phil whispered, his face so close to Dan’s that he could feel his friend’s breath ghosting across his face. “Everyone is wrong; Nothing you ever do could make that happen.”

Dan nodded, forced himself not to touch Phil.

It was almost habit now. Not touching Phil.

Dan’s hands twitched involuntarily.

Almost.

Phil’s hand flashed out and touched Dan’s cheek, for just a moment.

“Everything will be okay.”

Everything would be so much easier if Phil wasn’t so fucking perfect.

“You’re leaving next year,” Dan choked out.

“Only two years after that, and then you can leave too.”

“I’ll never make it without you.”

“Of course you will.”

“I won’t.”

“You will,” Phil said, closing his eyes. “But I’ll still be here. I’ll travel back all the time. London’s really not that far. I’ll scope it all out, and find us a flat, and when you’re finished school and starting uni, we can be flatmates. Just like we always said.”

“Yeah,” said Dan, because Phil wanted him to. But he knew it would never happen. Not once Phil got out. He would forget. Dan wouldn’t blame him.

“I promise,” said Phil. “Just two years.”

“Yeah,” whispered Dan. Two years was a fucking lifetime.

Two more years of everything he hated, minus the one thing he loved.

He would never last.

“You’ll be okay,” said Phil, moving closer, sensing Dan’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” echoed Dan.

But he wasn’t sure. He just wasn’t sure.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is leaving.

 

Phil was leaving.

Dan had known he would. He had known for a long time now, so he should have been prepared for it. But he was stupid. He had made Phil into his security blanket, the one thing he could cling to when everything around him made no sense. And now that blanket was being ripped away from him, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Dan,” Phil’s voice was quiet, and Dan blinked, looking around. He felt hazy, as if he was still half asleep. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t slept for a couple days.

He was positive Phil’s family had been there only a moment ago, but now the drive was empty, save them and the small moving van that was loaded with Phil’s things.

“Dan,” Phil said, a little louder now, a little sharper. Dan shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to focus.

Phil was staring at him, and Dan couldn’t read his expression.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and Dan nodded mutely. Phil raised an eyebrow. “Don’t do this. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be back next weekend, and the one after that you can come out to see me. Right?”

Dan nodded again.

“Yeah,” he said, and winced when his voice was too hoarse to be quite normal. “Yeah, of course. It’ll be fine.”

Phil sighed.

“You’re not the only one who’s sad, you know.”

Dan didn’t respond – what could he say? Phil frowned.

“I’m serious, Dan. I’m leaving everything and everyone. It’s fucking scary.”

“I know,” Dan nodded quickly. He was being selfish. “Of course it is. But you’re going to love it there. And you’re wonderful, so everyone will love _you_.”

Dan bit his tongue, but the words were already there, and Phil was smiling.

“ _You’re_ wonderful,” Phil said, and Dan looked away. “I’ll miss you.”

Not the way Dan would miss him, though. Never that much.

“I’ll miss you too.”

 _Don’t leave me_.

“I can’t wait until we’re in London together, living it up.” Phil’s voice was cheerful, but something in his eyes fell flat. Dan nodded all the same.

“That’ll be great. Only two years.”

“Two years,” echoed Phil.

They both fell silent. Dan could feel Phil studying him, but he looked away, down, anywhere but his friend. His wonderful, funny, beautiful, perfect friend. How was he ever going to make it without Phil?

“Hey,” said Phil finally, and Dan looked up. And he couldn’t breathe.

Phil was so _beautiful_ , and this was the end. Suddenly Dan couldn’t stand it. His chest was tearing, and his hands itched, and something behind his eyes was burning, and he couldn’t take another second of it.

He shook his head.

“Phil, I… I don’t, I can’t-”

Dan took a step closer, leaned forward, grasped at Phil’s shirt, and suddenly he was kissing him.

He held on to him as if he could keep him there, at his side, if he just held on tight enough.

Phil made a startled noise in the back of his throat, one hand moving up to rest on Dan’s arm.

And it was everything Dan had ever wanted to do– but Phil wasn’t kissing him back.

Dan pulled back minutely, so that he could still feel Phil’s breath against his cheek. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

And then-

“Dan,” Phil breathed, and the word caught in his throat.

Dan moved away, let go of his shirt.

Phil’s eyes were wide, and his hand reached out to catch at Dan. But he moved before he could reach him.

_What had he done?_

“Dan,” said Phil again, his voice just as broken, and Dan couldn’t stay there a moment longer.

He shook his head, backing away as Phil tried to move closer to him.

“Dan, wait.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispered, and then he was running.

He could hear Phil calling him back, yelling his name. But he didn’t follow. And Dan didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop until he had reached the copse back behind his house, and his lungs were burning for air, and his heart was threatening to implode, right in his chest.

He careened to a stop, stumbling onto his knees, gasping for breath.

_What had he done?_

That was it. That was the one step too far, the one he swore he’d never take.

He could hear himself, hear as his gasps sounded like sobs. But he wasn’t crying. His eyes were dry. Tears were meaningless anyway.

Dan dropped down onto his side, curling his knees to his chest.

How many times had he been there with Phil? Talking, and laughing, and watching the stars. He had taken it for granted, every single moment of it.

His phone was buzzing in his pocket, and he knew it was Phil, but he didn’t take it out to look.

How could he face Phil again, even online, after that? He wouldn’t be able to handle seeing aversion – or, even worse, pity – in his friend’s eyes.

The lack of sleep had finally caught up to him, and he couldn’t move for exhaustion. His eyes were too heavy to keep open for long, and he decided he couldn’t be bothered to try.

“Bye, Phil,” he whispered, digging his fingers into the grass beneath him until his nails were caked with dirt.

Dan closed his eyes, and sleep rose up to greet him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years later, and Phil calls Dan every Friday. 
> 
> Dan never answers. 
> 
> Until one day he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first section of this out of absolutely nowhere, and kind of fell in love with it, and I can't believe I'm about to post the last part! Thank-you everyone for reading and being so... enthusiastic about it ;) HERE IS YOUR HAPPINESS, OKAY?
> 
> But for real, I appreciate each and every comment and kudos, and I hope you're happy with this ending <3

“Are you going to the party after A levels are finished?”

The question didn’t register in Dan’s mind until a hand waved across his vision. He blinked, looking up to see a girl from his year – Lucy? – smiling up at him. He looked at her for a moment, wondering whether she thought he was someone else. They had spoken a few times before, had been partnered for one or two projects over the years, but he hadn’t been aware they were on a speaking-outside-of-class level.

“Dan?” she said, startling him. Why did she remember his name? “Are you going to the party at PJ’s?”

“Uh-” Dan glanced around, unsure of what to say. Had something happened? Had he been transported to a different reality, where he was the kind of person who was invited to college parties- and actually went? “I’m not sure. Why?”

The girl – Louise! That was it – frowned a little, and laid a hand on his arm.

“You seem sad. You always have.”

Dan stared at her. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

Louise shrugged.

“I know people used to be horrid to you, and I wouldn’t want to see loads of them either if I were you. But everyone at PJ’s is great, and I’m sure they’d all be happy to see you.”

He wondered who, exactly, would be happy to see him. And where this invitation of friendship had been hiding the past two years.

“How do you know?” he asked instead.

“Know what?”

“That people were ‘horrid’ to me?”

Louise frowned again, as if confused, and blinked slowly.

“Well- I was there. We’ve been at the same schools together since primary. So… I saw them.”

“We have?”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly at his words.

“Yeah. We… we used to play together when we were little? You don’t remember?”

Dan wondered whether he should feel bad. He shook his head.

“Oh,” she said, frowning. She looked away for a moment, before brightening and turning back. “Well, never mind. I’d still love you to come.”

Dan considered going. He imagined showing up at someone’s house, imagined being ushered in, imagined how the room would go quiet and how people would greet him awkwardly. Imagined how he would stand in the corner, wishing he knew someone, or wishing he could leave, and how everyone would leave him alone there. Or, even worse, people would notice him. They would ask him questions, remember who he was… parties and alcohol didn’t always make for friendly conversation, and he was sick of hearing “faggot” being flung at him every time he glanced at anyone who wasn’t female.

“I don’t think so,” he said finally. “I’m tired.”

Louise laughed a little and shook her head.

“The party isn’t until after A levels, that’s a week away.”

Dan blinked down at her.

“I’m sure you won’t still be tired by then,” she added.

“I’m always tired.”

Louise watched him for a second longer, before shrugging and turning away.

“Well if you change your mind, let me know.”

Dan didn’t bother to respond. He was halfway down the now empty hallway when he heard her call his name again. He turned to see her following him with a hesitant expression.

“I’m… sorry,” she said when she had caught up. “I’m sorry for the past… well, the past seven years. I’m sorry I never did anything.”

Dan suddenly realized she was worried he was angry with her. He almost laughed. Why would he be angry? There was no point in being angry, that took too much energy. He shook his head.

“What could you have done?” he said finally, and then he left. This time she didn’t follow.

 

Dan’s mobile started ringing in his pocket when he was halfway home. He glanced down at it before setting it to silent and putting it back in his coat.

Right on time, like always.

 

Dan walked through his front door and was surprised to see that his mum was already home.

“Hiya,” she called, turning around and waving at him with a baking mitt clad hand. “How was your day?”

Dan shrugged and wandered over to her. There was a plate of biscuits on the countertop, but he took an apple from the fruit bowl instead.

“Fine.”

“Phil called again,” she said after a moment of silence.

Dan nodded, pretending the name didn’t still send pangs of nausea through his body.

“Yeah. He called my mobile too.”

He could feel his mum watching him, but he avoided her eyes.

“Do you ever pick up?”

“Sometimes,” he said vaguely, taking a bite of his apple to avoid saying anything else.

Three times. He had answered the phone three times.

His mum sighed.

“He’s been calling you every Friday for the past two years, Dan. I don’t know what happened between you two, but someday he’s just going to give up.”

“Maybe he should.”

His mum’s eyes were sad. They were always sad when she looked at him.

“You boys used to be inseparable.”

Dan closed his eyes.

“I know.”

“He was your best friend. You _adored_ each other.”

Dan wondered if she was trying to choose the most hurtful words, or if she was just being oblivious.

“Yeah,” he said dully.

She paused for a moment, and he wondered whether he could get away with going to his room.

“Is this about-” she said suddenly, hesitantly. “Dan, is this about everything at school? Did you tell him that you’re gay and he reacted badly? Because I can tell him to stop-”

“ _Mum_ ,” Dan said sharply, opening his eyes. She jumped. “Stop. It has… it wasn’t… just _stop_.”

His mum looked surprised.

“Did he say something to you? Like the others?” she asked quietly, her eyes flashing as if every insult, every punch had been aimed at her directly.

“No,” sighed Dan. “He wouldn’t do that. I never told him.” Not with words, anyway.

She looked surprised.

“I think he knew though,” he added after a moment. Dan thought of all those conversations, skirting just barely around the subject. Phil had known everything, had seen and heard _everything_. Of course he had known that too.

“I thought you would have told him long before me,” his mum said frankly, and he frowned. But she didn’t seem upset. “I thought you told each other everything,” she added.

“We did. Just not that. Not in so many words. It wasn’t his fault, it was me.”

“But you miss him.”

Dan didn’t answer.

“Can’t you just talk to him?”

Dan shook his head.

“I can’t. I did something stupid and he hates me.”

There was a long pause. Dan studied the fridge magnets while his mum studied him.

“Are you ready for exams?” she asked finally, her voice bright. Dan shrugged and nodded. “How exciting,” she continued, “almost finished college. And then off to uni!”

Dan nodded again, flashing her a smile.

“Have you thought what you’d like to do when exams are finished next week?” she asked, and he wondered briefly whether Louise had somehow spoken to her too. “Auntie Em was hoping she could take you out for a nice meal,” she said, and he relaxed. “Shall we all do that, then? Go out to eat, just us four?”

A party at school, a dinner with his parents and aunt…

“That’d be nice, Mum.”

She smiled widely, relieved.

“Excellent! I’ll call her up and let her know you’re game.”

Dan left the apple where it was and made his way up to his room as his mum went to call her sister.

Leaving his backpack on the floor beside his desk, he threw himself onto his bed. He hadn’t been lying to Louise: he _was_ tired. Always tired.

And he missed Phil.

He closed his eyes. Just a little nap before studying.

He woke up four hours later, when his mum called him downstairs for supper.

 

The next week flew and crawled by simultaneously, an exhausting whirlwind of revisions and exams, and by the time next Friday came around, Dan wanted to shut his brain off and recharge his batteries for an entire month.

“Congratulations!” his mum greeted him enthusiastically the moment he walked through the front door. “You’re finished, you did it!” She grabbed him in a giant hug, and he couldn’t help but grin down at her.

“Finally,” he responded, still smiling, and she took his face in her hands.

“I’m so proud of you, love.”

“I don’t even have my results yet, Mum.”

She shook her head, and hugged him again.

“It doesn’t matter. You worked hard, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

Just then his phone rang, and he answered it without thinking, just wanting to duck out of his mum’s slightly suffocating embrace.

“Hello?”

There was a pause, an intake of breath, and Dan remembered what day it was.

Shit.

“ _Dan_?”

Phil’s voice was like a shock to his system. Dan’s heart began to pound, and his hands went immediately clammy. He had gone so long without it, so long convincing himself that he didn’t care, but with one single word, his stupid body showed him just how wrong he was.

“Dan, are you there?”

“Yeah,” Dan said finally, turning away from his mum’s searching gaze and heading upstairs. “I’m here.”

There was another pause.

“You answered,” Phil said, and the happiness in his voice sent a spike of self-hatred through Dan. “How are you?”

“I’m… fine.”

He paused.

“I just finished my A levels today,” he added after a moment. He wasn’t sure why. It was like a habit he couldn’t quite break.

“I know,” said Phil, surprising him. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks.”

“Off to uni, next.” Phil didn’t quite manage to sound upbeat this time, and Dan winced.

“Yeah, I guess.”

There was a pause, and Dan hated it.

“Are you going out tonight? Any parties happening?”

“Because parties are so my thing,” Dan responded automatically. Phil laughed.

“I know, I remember. I could never keep up with you, you party animal.”

Dan smiled, and for a moment, everything felt normal again.

“I miss you,” Phil said, and the sadness in his voice plunged Dan back into reality. “I wish you would talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you now,” responded Dan, and he winced at the stiffness in his own.

Phil sighed.

“Yeah. I know. I just… I just wish you would _talk_ to me.”

“I know,” conceded Dan after a moment. This was his fault after all.

“I’m sorry,” said Phil suddenly, and Dan froze. Phil was sorry? _Phil_ was sorry?

“Why?”

“For everything,” Phil responded, echoing Louise’s words from the week before. “I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I could fix it.”

Dan had no idea how to respond. What the fuck was _Phil_ sorry for? What was he supposed to fix? It was Dan who had ruined everything.

“I don’t…” Dan began, but Phil cut him off.

“It’s okay,” and his voice was alright again. “Have fun tonight, whatever you’re doing, okay? Celebrate. You deserve it. You’re wonderful.”

And he hung up.

Dan stared at the phone in his hand for a long time before his mum called up to remind him they were leaving at 6.

He got ready in a haze. Talking to Phil had reminded him just how desperately he missed his best friend. There had been no hate in Phil’s voice, no aversion, and Dan wondered whether they really could go back to the way they had been before.

But then he remembered how he had kissed him, and how Phil had most definitely not kissed him back, and the hot humiliation of that moment flooded through him again, just as potent as ever.

His mum looked worried when he came downstairs, and she kept shooting little glances over at his dad on the drive over to the restaurant, so Dan put a smile on his face, and talked cheerfully about his exams, and how happy he was to be finished secondary school.

They ate at his favourite restaurant, and he ordered two of everything he loved, and his parents and his aunt were happy and proud, and everything was fine. Good, even. Not even a large group of people from his year at school showing up managed to ruin it. Dan was good at not seeing or hearing things, so he pretended not to even notice them, despite the looks he could see them throwing his way. He wondered if Louise was somewhere in that group, if she was glad he hadn’t accepted his offer to join them. He thought he could hear her voice.

It was when they were ordering dessert that Dan noticed his parents were being a little odd. His mum kept checking her phone, and after the waitress had left, his dad stood up suddenly and cleared his throat.

“I have to go check on the car. I’m not sure I paid to park it there this long.”

Dan watched him sceptically as he left the restaurant, when his mum broke into his thoughts.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to the loo. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, I’ll come too!” chimed his aunt, standing up to join her.

Dan shrugged his assent, and then they were both gone.

He felt his heart begin to pound a little harder: there were no distractions now, no reasons why he shouldn’t look over at his classmates. _Former_ classmates.

He stared down at his hands, willing his eyes to stay put, stay where they were. It was only when he heard someone – now he was _positive_ it was Louise – exclaim, “oh my _god_!” in a rather overly excited tone that he looked up.

He felt all the blood leave his face in a rush, and he found himself on his feet without meaning to be.

Phil.

Phil was there. Standing in front of the table as if he belonged there, looking at Dan for all the world as if he was happy to see him.

Dan stared at him, his body tensed. He was pretty sure his hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists.

“Hiya,” said Phil quietly, and Dan wasn’t sure whether to grab for him over the table and never let him go, or run far in the other direction.

“Why are you here?” he managed to get out, and then mentally slapped himself.

“I told you: I miss you,” Phil said with a shrug. “And I decided I wasn’t going to let you avoid me forever. We were supposed to celebrate this together, just like we celebrated for me. So I asked your mum, and she told me where you’d be.”

Phil glanced over at the table of students across the room, where nearly every single person there was staring avidly over at them. Of course they were. Dan and Phil had been a package deal for as long as Dan could remember, right up until two years ago, and he was sure most of the table knew who Phil was. Louise certainly would, at least.

Phil cleared his throat and leaned minutely closer.

“Let me try to fix us, Dan. Please.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

Phil looked nervous, he realized with a start.

“I didn’t handle it properly when you kissed me.”

Dan wished fervently for an earthquake to drag them all to their deaths.

“Please, let’s not talk about that. Ever,” he said, biting his lip anxiously, and hoping no one else had heard.

Phil shook his head.

“Sorry, but we have to. Because there was something I should have told you then.”

“What?” Dan asked before he could stop himself.

Phil took a deep breath, then stepped closer, around the table, right up to Dan, and every moment of longing he had ever felt came rushing back.

“This,” said Phil, and he leaned in and kissed him. Right there in the restaurant. Dan could hear a vague murmur wash over the room, and he was certain every pair of eyes was on them, but the kiss was over before he even had time to be embarrassed. Or to enjoy it.

Phil pulled away and looked at him, biting his lip anxiously.

“I shouldn’t have waited two years to do that.” He paused, and then shook his head. “I shouldn’t have waited _ten_ years to do that.”

“Ten years?” Dan asked, and his voice was embarrassingly breathy.

“Of course, silly,” Phil said quietly. “I can’t remember a moment when I didn’t want to kiss you.”

Dan stared at him. Because that couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Phil couldn’t have possibly been wanting to kiss Dan while at the same time Dan was longing to kiss Phil. They couldn’t have both been wishing for the same thing, for so long.

“Really? I thought you hated me for doing that,” he said stupidly, not daring to believe it. But Phil was smiling at him, his nervousness gone. And when had Phil ever lied to Dan?

“You’re quite thick sometimes, Dan Howell,” murmured Phil. “You asked me once if I would hate you if you wanted to kiss me. And I told you nothing could ever make that happen. Best friends for life, remember?”

Dan stared at Phil. Phil, his wonderful, funny, beautiful, perfect best friend. The one who had been there at his side his entire life, for the good and the bad, even when Dan hadn’t been there for him. The one who was still looking at him, waiting for an answer he should have been given a very long time ago.

“I remember,” he said, and he kissed Phil.

He was vaguely aware of a couple of encouraging shouts from across the restaurant, thought he heard his mum somewhere nearby muttering, “oh thank god, finally.” But he didn’t really care. He was much more focused on the feeling of Phil’s hands in his hair, and the fact that this time he was kissing back.

When Dan moved away, Phil’s smile was as achingly beautiful as he always remembered it, and he couldn’t help but to smile back.

He thought of two little boys staring up at the stars through the leaves, and thought of how stupid he had been, how much time he had wasted, and he thought of how maybe, with Phil beside him, everything was going to be okay again.

 

 

And it was.


	6. Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil loves Dan. He always has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! I'm back. 
> 
> A big thank-you to the lovely reader whose request for a "really sad, very sad, sad" extra chapter from Phil's perspective gave me an excuse to come back to this story I love so much.
> 
> I'm not sure this is quite as sad as requested, but I kind of adore it, so I hope you all do too!
> 
> Now goodbye (to this story) for real xx <3

 

 

Phil was pretty sure he was gay by the time he was eleven.

He didn’t mind much.

But he didn’t tell anyone. Because he still wasn’t _completely_ sure, and because he knew what they would probably say. He heard the horrible things other kids at school said. They were all idiots, of course, but he would still prefer to stay out of their line of fire.

Besides, he had Dan, and he was the one who had made him wonder in the first place.

Dan, who he’d known for so long, who was his best friend, who snuck out at night with him, who got in the most trouble with him, who had crazy curly hair and dimples when he smiled (and he was always smiling). Dan, who made Phil smile and laugh and sometimes get butterflies.

Dan was the best.

So he could always tell Dan in a couple years, if he really needed to tell someone. He knew he wouldn’t mind.

Except that when Dan was ten, the other kids started saying the horrible things to _him_.

And Phil was terrified.

The first time they hit Dan, Phil understood what it meant in books when someone “saw red.” He couldn’t think, or eat, or sleep, and the first moment he got, he snuck out of his bedroom to go see his friend.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” he whispered through the window. Dan had been sleeping, but when he sat up, and Phil saw the mess of bruises and swelling across his face, it took everything in him not to flinch. Instead, he remained cheerful, forced himself to wait until they were outside, under the trees where they always went.

Dan was quieter than normal. He seemed sad, or scared, and Phil wanted to punch someone.

He watched as Dan began to relax.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, and then wished he could take it back when he saw the way Dan pretended not to care.

“A little,” Dan said, and Phil could almost feel the throbbing pain he knew his friend must be feeling.

“What happened?” he finally let himself ask. Dan looked immediately uncomfortable.

Phil knew what it had been about, had heard some of the kids in his year whispering about it, but he wanted Dan to tell him himself, when he was ready.

So instead he talked about the stars. He liked the way the breeze was making the leaves dance above them, how the stars twinkled through the gaps like magic. It felt safe there, just the two of them. Phil wished it could be like that forever.

When Dan finally told him, blinking through tears, Phil was angry. He had known, but it was different to hear it from Dan. And then Dan said that it was about _him_ , about Phil, about Dan watching Phil play football. And Phil was suddenly struck with the thought that maybe it was true.

He wanted it very much to be true.

But he couldn’t make it about what he wanted, not when Dan was hurt and crying and gripped with the strange idea that Phil was going to hate him.

So he took Dan’s hand, and he pretended not to notice how that made him feel.

“Dan, it doesn’t matter what they say, because they’re wrong,” he said, trying to smile, trying not to show that his stomach was full of butterflies again. “I would never hate you. And you could never scare me away, because I’m exactly the same as you.”

And it seemed to make Dan feel better, Phil’s words. But Phil couldn’t concentrate after that, because he wasn’t exactly sure what he had just said.

Was Phil the same as Dan? Was _Dan_ the same as _Phil_?

Surely not.

He was desperate to ask. But he was too scared. Too scared of it not being true, and of Dan disappearing from him.

“I think you’re perfectly great,” he said instead, and wished the words didn’t fall so short of the truth. Dan wasn’t great. Dan was fantastic.

Phil got a detention at school the next morning, for deflating all the year seven’s footballs and refusing to tell anyone why. He didn’t care though, because it meant they got to play with the lower years at lunch.

He got a second detention at lunch for very deliberately tripping up four of the year fives. He still didn’t care, because it made Dan smile from the sidelines.

He promised himself that once everything at school blew over, and Dan was happy again, he would tell his friend the truth about himself.

Except that it didn’t blow over. It got worse. And Dan wasn’t happy again.

Instead there were new bruises nearly every day, and he got quieter, and sadder, and his dimples only seemed to appear when Phil was around.

So Phil threw himself into making sure Dan smiled as much as possible when he was there. And when he wasn’t, he spent most of his time trying to convince everyone else of how amazing Dan was. People seemed to generally like Phil, for whatever reason, and as they grew up, his year left Dan pretty much alone.

Dan’s year though- Phil could do nothing about that. But he tried. He tried inviting Dan to sit with him and his friends at lunch, he tried to spend time with him around Dan’s classmates. And after a couple of years, it finally started to work, just a little bit at a time, until Dan’s skin was no longer a constant mosaic of colours, and the words flung at him began to grow further and further between.

By the time Phil started his final year of college, everything seemed to be better. And he wished he could relax. But the problem was that _Dan_ wasn’t better. Dan was different. He was no longer the happy, carefree little boy Phil had fallen in love with.

(And he really did love him. He always had.)

Dan was withdrawn. And scared. And people didn’t bother him anymore because no one really noticed he was there.

Phil wondered daily whether he should tell Dan that he was gay. Whether it would help. Whether it would hurt. Whether it would make everything okay, or destroy everything they had.

He hated himself for being such a coward. For not standing up for himself the way he always told Dan to do.

So when Dan started spending more and more time with another boy from Phil’s year, Phil told himself he was glad.

And when Dan opened up under Erik’s attention the way he had only ever done with Phil, Phil told himself it was good.

And when Dan crawled, white and shaking, into his bed one night and tore Phil’s chest apart with three little words, Phil told himself he deserved it.

“I kissed someone.”

Phil held his breath.

“Well, they kissed me.”

There was no reason for the words to send sharp spikes of pain and jealousy through him, so Phil swallowed it back.

“Was it Erik?” he asked, and was proud when it didn’t sound like dread. Dan froze, and Phil knew. But still he hoped, willed Dan to say no, say no, to deny it, to tell him it had been nothing more than something stupid with some stupid girl.

“Yes,” whispered Dan, and it took everything in Phil not to turn away.

“Did you want to?” he asked instead. Dan closed his eyes, and Phil bit his lip.

“I don’t know.”

Phil’s mind flooded with images of punching Erik.

“Did you like it?” he asked, because apparently he liked pain.

“I don’t know,” Dan repeated, and his voice was so terrified that every self-serving thought was pushed out of Phil’s head.

He inched closer and put his arm around Dan.

“That’s okay,” he told him, and tried to believe it himself.

He could feel Dan trembling, so he pulled him even closer, and held on tight. The trembling grew until Dan’s whole body was shaking, and Phil could feel tears against his shirt, and it hurt. It hurt how badly he wanted to make everything okay again.

“It’s okay, Dan,” he whispered, Dan’s hair tickling against his nose, and he _wished._ He wished for this to be real, for the feeling of Dan in his arms to happen again, and again, and again.

He wondered how on earth it was possible to miss someone you were still with.

“Don’t hate me,” whispered Dan, and Phil felt like screaming. How could Dan not know?

“I could never hate you,” he said, his voice just barely shaking.

It was sometime later that Dan finally relaxed, pulled back a little. Phil had been lost in thoughts of forever, and the sudden loss of contact was startling.

“Do you think I’m gay?” Dan asked suddenly, the words strangely calm, and Phil swore his heart stopped, for just a minute.

This was it. He should tell him now.

“Do _you_ think you’re gay?” he responded, and he watched as Dan chewed his lip to shreds, his eyebrows pushed together, and it was all the answer he needed. He felt like laughing and crying all at once.

“Are you scared?” he asked after a moment of silence, because he was scared, and he wanted, just once, for someone to tell him he wasn’t alone.

Dan whimpered, softly, in the back of his throat, and Phil tried to find his breath.

He told Dan what he needed to hear. He told him how much it didn’t matter, how words didn’t mean anything, and all the while he hated himself for being such a hypocrite. If words didn’t matter too much, then why the hell was he so terrified of uttering one, just one? It was just a word, and he told Dan as much, and inside he was screaming.

Except Dan didn’t respond in the way that Phil expected.

“What if I wanted to kiss you?” he said, and the look on his face told Phil he was just as surprised. “Would you hate me then?”

“Do it,” Phil breathed, his heart pounding with longing, “please kiss me.” But that was in his mind, and the words wouldn’t come out, and instead he said something else.

“I will never hate you, Dan Howell,” he whispered, and wondered when their faces had got so close, and why he couldn’t ever just close that gap.

Dan nodded, and Phil wanted to kiss him _so badly_ , so instead he let himself reach out and touch his cheek. Just one little touch, just one moment of weakness.

“Everything will be okay,” he said to Dan, and to himself.

But it still wasn’t okay, because the months flew by, and he was leaving so fucking soon.

Dan was getting worse, and it was all Phil could do to stay strong for him. He didn’t think it would benefit anyone for him to fall apart too, even though it was all he wanted to do.

He hated seeing the shadows darken under Dan’s eyes, watching as the weight fell off his already skinny body.

“I can’t go, he needs me,” he told his parents.

“He has you, Phil,” they said. “But you have to go. You need to do this for you.”

And then his exams were over, and he was lying under the trees with Dan the night before he had to go.

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispered, and Dan, in a rare moment of honesty, took Phil’s hand and stared right at him.

“Then don’t.”

Phil wanted to stay. He wanted to turn and hug Dan and tell him he would never leave.

But he also knew his parents were right. As much as he wanted to be there, physically be there for Dan, he had worked so hard to get to uni. It would be a waste if he were to give it all up now.

“I have to.”

Dan sighed, and let go of his hand. Phil stopped himself just before he moved to snatch it back.

“I know.”

Phil fell asleep there, only waking when Dan shook his shoulder the next morning.

They walked to his house in silence, the early morning air cool against their skin. Phil longed to take Dan’s hand in his, but he didn’t.

Dan helped Phil and his brother move everything into the small moving van they would be driving down to London. Dan didn’t complain, but he looked exhausted, and Phil wondered if he had slept at all.

Time seemed to speed up and slow down at the same time, and before he knew it, all of his things were loaded up, and his parents were going inside to let Phil say goodbye to Dan in peace.

They knew, he was sure.

“Dan,” Phil said quietly, and the other boy jumped slightly, as if startled. His eyes were bleary, and he stared at Phil with a dazed expression. “Dan,” he repeated, trying to get his friend’s focus. “Are you okay?”

Dan nodded, but his face was anything but okay.

“Don’t do this,” Phil said, silently willing Dan to be okay. “It’s going to be fine.”

He could see from Dan’s expression as he began to speak of their future plans that the boy didn’t believe a word of it, and that hurt more than he thought it should.

Suddenly he wished his friend could just snap out of it.

He felt mean for thinking it, but was it too much to ask? All he wanted was for someone to tell him it would be alright, to take his hand and be strong for him instead of the other way around. He so badly wanted that someone to be Dan.

“You’re not the only one who’s sad, you know,” he snapped without thinking. Dan frowned, blinking at him silently. “I’m serious, Dan. I’m leaving everything and everyone. It’s fucking scary.”

Dan’s eyes widened, his face coming alert.

“I know. Of course it is,” he said, and finally, _finally_ , it was his friend Dan again. Not the sad, zombie version of him that was appearing more and more frequently these days. “But you’re going to love it there,” Dan continued, his voice earnest. “And you’re wonderful, so everyone will love _you_.”

Dan stopped talking, looking embarrassed, but the words made a rush of something heady and happy wash over Phil, and he smiled widely at his friend. There he was. That was his Dan.

“ _You’re_ wonderful,” he said suddenly, wishing he could imprint the words into his friend’s skin. “I’ll miss you.”

He felt the insignificance of the words as he said them. How silly, those three little words. They meant next to nothing in the face of the sheer force of how much he would miss Dan. Already did miss him.

Dan was biting his lip, looking sad again, so Phil began to babble, talking about Dan joining him in London.

“That’ll be great,” Dan said, forcing a smile. “Only two years.”

“Two years,” echoed Phil as he watched the time stretch out before him, an eternity.

They both fell silent, and Dan’s expression was strange. He was nervous about something, angry about something. Phil could see him working himself up to some kind of state, but he didn’t know how to get him down from it.

“Phil,” Dan gasped, his voice raw and desperate. Phil took a step forward at the sound of it. “I don’t, I can’t-”

Phil didn’t see it coming. If he could have predicted how this morning would go, never in a million years would he have guessed it would end with Dan kissing him.

Dan grabbing at his shirt frantically, and pressing his lips against Phil’s, and holding him so tightly Phil was sure there would be a bruise.

Phil was so startled he froze.

 _Do something_ , he screamed, but his body wouldn’t respond.

He managed to move his hand, to touch Dan’s arm, but then Dan was moving away.

“Dan,” he whispered, just because he didn’t know what else to say. And he needed to know what his friend was thinking. Why had he done that?

Dan stepped back, his face white as a sheet. He looked horrified, and all of Phil’s hopes came crashing down again. So he hadn’t meant it, then. Hadn’t wanted that.

“Dan,” he said, wincing at the rawness in his own voice. He could see that Dan was about to bolt, the way he sometimes did, and he knew he had to keep him there if everything was to stay the same between them. “Dan, wait,” he said, reaching out to take hold of him.

But Dan was too fast.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping out of Phil’s reach. His eyes were wide and tortured.

Phil shook his head.

 _Please_.

Dan turned around and ran.

Phil didn’t see him again for two years.

He _saw_ him, of course. Glimpses of him when Phil was back home to visit. Their families lived too close to avoid any contact at all. But Dan did an excellent job of trying.

For the first couple of weeks after Phil had settled into the flat share in London, he called Dan nearly every day. Sometimes more than once. He texted him, and emailed him, the way he always had before. But now Dan didn’t answer back.

After a while he stopped texting. It was too hard to watch them all turn to “read,” and never get a response.

He stopped emailing too.

But he didn’t stop calling.

“Hey Dan, it’s me again. I hope you’re alright. I miss you. Talk to you next Friday.”

Phil hung up the phone and sighed.

“Why do you still call him, mate?”

Phil jumped at the sound of his flatmate’s voice behind him. He turned to see Chris staring at him quizzically.

“I promised I would,” he said after a moment, tired of trying to explain it.

“Has he ever answered?”

“Once or twice,” Phil shrugged. “By mistake.”

Chris raised an eyebrow at him.

“So how long were you guys going out?”

Phil shook his head, forcing out a laugh. “We weren’t. We were just friends, I’ve known him since nursery school.”

“But you wanted to.”

Phil looked at his friend for a long moment. They had never discussed this. Technically, Phil supposed he was still closeted- which seemed strange, really, as he wasn’t trying to hide it. He wondered what it must feel like, though, to officially _come out_.

“Yes,” he said finally, quietly. The word was harder to get out than he would have expected.

He watched for Chris’ reaction, his heart pounding just a little bit faster. Chris’ eyes widened, just fractionally.

On second thought, he probably should have told his parents first.

“ _Yes_ ,” said Chris suddenly, bounding over to him and grabbing him in a rib-crushing hug. “Yes! I _knew_ it. Good for you, good for you. That’s awesome. Let’s go get him.”

Phil struggled out of his friend’s arms, staring at him warily. That was… unexpected.

“What?” he said weakly.

Chris grinned at him.

“You bit the bullet mate, you did it!”

“What?” Phil repeated. He felt slightly light-headed.

“We’ve lived together for nearly two years, and you’ve been moping over some kid in your hometown the entire time. It’s not really a shock that you’re gay, now, is it? I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

Phil wasn’t sure what to say. He felt both relieved at how casually Chris was addressing it, and alarmed at how this seemingly huge secret was now out in the universe for everyone to see. Well, for Chris to see anyway. And it didn’t seem huge to him at all.

“Um,” Phil began, but Chris waved a hand to shush him.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to talk about some of my plans for getting this Dan guy? Either works for me.”

Phil felt a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re insane,” he said finally, and Chris laughed.

“Don’t get all emotional on me, Lester,” he said, poking Phil’s shoulder. “You’re lucky to have me, I know. So tell me about Dan.”

And he did. He told him everything, from the way that Dan had smiled at him when he was six, to the whispered conversations under the stars, to the urgent press of lips against lips, to the sight of Dan’s retreating figure, to the dozens of unanswered calls.

When he had finished, he felt wrung out in a way he hadn’t felt before. He sank back against the cushions of the sofa and closed his eyes.

“Wow,” said Chris after a pause.

“Yeah,” Phil responded, and his voice sounded desolate even to him. “Wow.”

“You really love him.”

Phil nodded, not even trying to hide it.

There was a brief silence, and then Chris stood up.

“I’m calling my cousin. I don’t know why I haven’t before.”

Phil opened his eyes, confused.

“Your cousin?”

Chris nodded.

“PJ, the one from your town.”

“Why?” asked Phil slowly.

“To tell him to get his little punk head out of his ass, and be a man. If I find out he was one of the ones hassling Dan…” Chris trailed off ominously.

“What, you’ll beat him up yourself?” Phil asked sarcastically, unsure of how this train of thought was going to help anything.

“No,” laughed Chris. “I’ll tell his dad.”

Chris wandered away, and Phil watched him go, slightly confused.

Talking about Dan, really _talking_ about Dan had reminded him of everything he had been trying to forget. He felt exhausted, and just a little bit sick.

And angry. He was angry, too.

Dan was being entirely unfair, and frankly, it was getting a little embarrassing. All the times being turned away – gently, kindly, but still turned away – at the Howell’s door, the short and awkward conversations with Dan’s mum… it was tiring. He was sick of it. He didn’t know what had happened between them- why Dan had kissed him, why he wouldn’t talk to him, but he wanted to take it all back. He didn’t care anymore, he could survive a lifetime of wishing and longing, as long as he could have Dan back.

Chris came back into the room looking nervous.

“PJ says no one bothers Dan anymore.”

Phil nodded.

“Okay. That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Chris said slowly. “He also says Dan doesn’t talk to anyone. He says he’s tried, and a couple of his friends have too, but Dan doesn’t seem to care.”

Phil felt himself bristling.

“Why should he want to talk to a bunch of-”

“I know,” said Chris holding his hands up. “But PJ said he doesn’t ignore them so much as just doesn’t seem to notice. He said not even many of the teachers bother with him too much. But he’s going to invite him to his end of school party. So maybe that’ll be good.”

Phil imagined Dan, sad, listless, zombie-Dan wandering around school in a haze, and he wanted to shake him. Wanted to grab him by the shoulders, and yell at him until he woke up. Maybe the rest of the world didn’t deserve to see how wonderful Dan was, but Dan deserved for them to see.

“But, mate,” continued Chris, “you’re obviously both miserable. Why don’t you just go see him?”

“I’ve tried!” snapped Phil, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve tried so many times. He doesn’t want to see me, or doesn’t care, or… I don’t know anymore.”

“Okay,” said Chris, watching him carefully. “Okay. Then let’s go out tonight. Find you someone new.”

Phil looked at him sharply.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because if you’re not going to sort things out with Dan, you need to move on!” said Chris. “Hell, _I’ll_ kiss you if it’ll get you over him!”

That startled Phil into a laugh, and Chris grinned at him.

“Would that help?”

Phil threw a cushion at him.

“That would never help anything,” he said drily, and Chris laughed.

“Right. So then if you don’t want to move on, you’ve got to figure it out. You’ve been sad for two years, and he clearly isn’t doing any better. So let’s go _get him_.”

Phil looked at him for a minute. Imagined it. Imagined actively pursuing Dan. Remembered how tiring the past two years had been, how painful the past _ten_ years had been, how much more it would hurt if he laid everything out on the table and Dan still said no. He closed his eyes, shrugging.

He heard Chris sighing and turning to go.

“At least think about it,” his friend said from the doorway of the lounge. “This is pathetic, man.”

Phil thought about it.

He tried not to, but once the idea had been planted, nothing he could do would shake it off.

He thought about it all week, and then it was Friday again, and he was dialling Dan’s number without really meaning to. He listened to the ringtone buzzing in his ear, and clicked open on his Facebook, waiting for the answering message to tell him when to talk.

So he wasn’t prepared when it was Dan’s voice he heard instead.

“Hello?”

Phil jumped, pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it for a moment.

“ _Dan_?” he said in shock. There was only silence in response, and he suddenly felt like panicking. Dan couldn’t leave, he couldn’t give Phil all that hope and then vanish again. “Dan, are you there?” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Dan responded slowly. Phil wondered why he had answered the phone, and if he had even meant to. “I’m here.”

“You answered,” said Phil stupidly, unable to stop the smile from spreading over his face, glad Dan couldn’t see him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” answered Dan, and his voice was a little wary. _Wary of what?_ “I just finished my A levels today,” he continued. Phil glanced over at his calendar, at the stars circling the day’s date. His smile widened.

“I know. Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” said Dan, sounding vaguely surprised.

Their conversation was stilted, and awkward, and it was nothing like it used to be… but they were _talking_! And Phil didn’t even care what it was about, because Dan was talking back, and he had so missed his voice.

“Are you going out tonight? Any parties happening?” he asked, remembering Chris’ cousin’s promise and hoping Dan had taken him up on that.

“Because parties are so my thing,” said Dan sarcastically. He sounded like the old Dan for a moment, and Phil couldn’t bring himself to care that the younger boy had obviously rejected PJ’s invitation.

“I know, I remember,” he said, biting back on what would have probably been a slightly hysterical laugh. “I could never keep up with you, you party animal.”

He heard Dan laugh quietly, and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing loudly in relief.

“I miss you,” he said after a moment, without thinking. He heard Dan suck in a breath of air, and he pushed forward. “I wish you would talk to me.”

He was sure Dan could hear the longing in his voice, and he wished so badly for something, anything at all, to tell him that Dan missed him too.

“I’m talking to you now,” Dan said finally, and his voice was back to the awful blankness Phil hated.

“Yeah,” he said, reminding himself to be grateful that they were talking at all. “I know. I just… I just wish you would _talk_ to me.”

_Talk to me, Dan. Tell me why. Tell me why you hate me, or miss me, or why you kissed me. Tell me anything, I don’t care. Just talk to me._

“I know,” said Dan, and his voice sounded sad. Phil dug the nails of his free hand into his palm. He heard a creaking sound outside his door, and was pretty sure Chris was listening in.

He remembered what his flatmate had said.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, surprising himself. Was he sorry?

“Why?” asked Dan, sounding just as surprised. Phil paused.

“For everything,” he said, and realized that he meant it. “I’m so sorry for everything. I wish I could fix it.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Phil was struck with the realization that he could. He could fix it, or try at least. And he suddenly didn’t know why he hadn’t already. Why had he let Dan dictate everything with his sadness? That wasn’t fair, to either of them.

It suddenly occurred to Phil that maybe Dan _had_ meant it, when he kissed him.

He knew his friend. He knew Dan. Kissing Phil wasn’t something he would take lightly- it would embarrass him, especially if Phil hadn’t responded the way he hoped…

_Fucking hell. Fucking bloody hell, Phil Lester. You’re an idiot._

“I don’t-” said Dan quietly, but he didn’t let him continue. This wasn’t Dan’s fault, and it wasn’t Phil’s fault. They were both idiots. But Phil could fix it.

“It’s okay,” he said, careful to make his voice friendly. “Have fun tonight, whatever you’re doing, okay? Celebrate. You deserve it.” He paused, and couldn’t help the last words from slipping out. “You’re wonderful.”

He hung up before Dan could respond, and promptly dialled Mrs. Howell’s mobile.

“Phil?” she answered after one ring, her voice happy.

“Hi Mrs. Howell,” he said, and he realized he missed her too. “I need your help.”

“Oh _good_ ,” she said immediately. “Is this about Dan?”

Phil smiled.

“Yeah. I… I did something I shouldn’t have, a long time ago. And I need to make it better.”

To Phil’s surprise, she laughed.

“Dan said almost the exact same thing to me last week,” she answered, and Phil bit his tongue. “Only he said that you hate him now.”

“The little-”

Phil couldn’t help the undignified sound that slipped from his lips, but he forcibly swallowed back any other protests.

“Sorry,” he said after a moment. “I just- how many times-” he took a deep breath.

“I know,” said Dan’s mum. “He’s not very good at accepting love, is he?”

“No,” said Phil carefully, wondering just how many people knew without having ever been told, “not very good at all.”

There was a pause and then Mrs. Howell spoke again, her voice cautious.

“This is probably not a very good thing of me to do, but… well, at first I wondered if it had been something to do with the fact that… that Dan is gay.”

The way she spoke told Phil she knew exactly what she was doing with those words, and he had to hold his breath for a moment.

“No,” he said finally, firmly. “I of all people wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“No, she echoed thoughtfully. “I didn’t think you would. So how can I help?”

“Help me see him. I just want to see him. I need to tell him something.”

He could hear her hesitate, oscillating between protecting her son and helping him.

“We’re going into Manchester for dinner at Browns at 6:30 tonight,” she said finally, without elaborating.

Phil glanced at his watch. It was 3:40. It would be pushing it.

“I can be there by 8,” he said.

“Be careful,” was all she said. “Text me when you’re here. We all miss you, Phil.”

“Thank-you,” Phil said earnestly, and hung up the phone. His heart was pounding wildly. “Chris?” he called, and his bedroom door opened immediately. Maybe he should get a lock.

“I’ll drive,” said Chris with a grin, and Phil stared at him. “I don’t trust you not to drive my car off the road in a panic,” Chris added. “And I’m a better driver anyway, I’ll have you there before 8. Let’s go.”

The drive passed unbearably slowly. Phil watched the minutes tick past on the car’s clock-radio, and tried to ignore the vague feeling of nausea that was bubbling up within him.

Chris tried to distract him by belting out the wrong lyrics to the songs on the radio, but after an hour of that Phil told him to very kindly shut up.

By 7:30, after some rather interesting driving, they were fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. Phil texted Mrs. Howell, and sat back with a sigh.

“What are you going to say?” asked Chris, and Phil looked at him in a sudden wave of anxiety.

“I have no idea,” he said, his voice hinging on panic.

“Okay,” said Chris calmly, “so what do you want to say?”

“That I love him. But I can’t. Not there, with everyone around. Not after two years of not talking.”

Chris glanced at him.

“So then show him.”

Phil nodded, taking a deep breath. Show him. He could do that.

Phil texted again when they were pulling onto the right street, and by the time he got out of the car, Dan’s dad was there.

“Phillip,” he said, and Phil felt suddenly flustered.

“Hello, Sir,” he answered, holding out a hand.

Mr. Howell regarded him solemnly for a long moment, before shaking his head and pulling Phil into a hug.

“We’ve missed you.”

Phil nodded, his eyes burning just a little.

“He’s in the back left corner of the room,” Mr. Howell said. “He should be alone at the table.”

Phil looked over at the restaurant. He suddenly wondered whether Dan would be angry at this ambush.

“He misses you,” Mr. Howell said when Phil didn’t move. “He’ll be happy to see you, no matter what he might say. He’s a strange, stubborn boy, he is.”

“Right,” said Phil, nodding decisively. He headed towards the restaurant, ignoring Chris’ jubilant calls of encouragement behind him.

He wasn’t sure whether the tremors running through his hands were from nerves or excitement, the two emotions wrecking havoc in his chest as they competed for attention.

“Can I help you?” a hostess asked as he walked through the door.

“I’m meeting someone. It should be under Howell,” Phil said, clearing his throat.

“Of course,” she said, smiling at him as she checked her bookings. “Right at the back there, where the young man is sitting. I’m sure the others will be back shortly.”

Phil didn’t let himself look at the table as he headed towards it.

He caught a glance of a few people he recognized at a large table as he passed through the room, and nearly paused when he saw a boy he was almost positive was Chris’ cousin, PJ.

What a strange night.

“Oh my _god_ ,” a girl whisper-screamed, and he glanced over to see Dan’s former best friend Louise, the one Phil had replaced at the much older and wiser age of seven. She looked rather thrilled to see him, so he assumed there were no hard feelings.

And then he heard another gasp, a quieter, more startled one, and he looked up-

And there was Dan.

Phil was struck dumb for a moment as he looked at him, drank in the sight of him. He was just a touch on the side of too thin, but at least the dark, bruise-like shadows were gone from under his eyes. His curly hair was straight now, styled perfectly to the side in a way Phil knew he must have spent ages obsessing over.

He didn’t look too different. He looked like Dan.

Only he looked vaguely terrified.

“Hiya,” Phil said, suddenly realizing neither one of them had spoken yet.

Dan swayed slightly towards him, as if about to lurch forward and grab him.

To do what? Hug him? Punch him? Kiss him?

“Why are you here?” Dan finally said, and his face was pale.

So. Probably not the kiss then.

“I told you,” Phil said, determined not to let Dan push him away again. “I miss you. And I decided I wasn’t going to let you avoid me forever.”

Dan stared at him as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Phil’s face.

Phil could feel the eyes of Dan’s classmates on him. He glanced over, and saw Chris standing by his cousin, grinning manically at him, and it was all he could do not to hide under the table in embarrassment.

Why had he chosen to do this in public?

 _Focus_.

Phil turned back to Dan, who was still staring at him as if he was a ghost.

“Let me try to fix us, Dan,” Phil said, trying to keep his voice from sounding like he was begging, when really that was all he was doing. “Please.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Dan asked, laying his hands carefully on the table- probably to keep Phil from noticing that they were shaking.

“I didn’t handle it properly when you kissed me.”

 _What? Why, Phil? Why_ that _, right_ now _?_

Dan looked just as uncomfortable, shifting slightly away from the searching eyes of his peers.

“Please, let’s not talk about that,” he said, his voice quiet, and just so slightly sad. “Ever.”

“Sorry, but we have to,” said Phil with as much confidence he could gather, as if this was going exactly the way he had planned. “Because there was something I should have told you then.”

“What?” asked Dan, and the anxious look on his face made up Phil’s mind before he even realized it.

 _Show him_.

“This,” replied Phil, in what was probably the best moment of his life. And then, before knowing what he was doing, he was in Dan’s space, and his face was so close, and Dan’s eyes fluttered half-shut – and finally, finally, finally Phil leaned in and closed that bloody gap.

It wasn’t a very passionate kiss, it didn’t last long. But Phil poured every ounce of longing, and hoping, and wishing, and missing, and loving he had ever felt into it, and when he pulled away, he felt like he was going to float up and out into the sky.

“I shouldn’t have waited two years to do that,” he said, biting his lip when he realized Dan had no idea what had been going through his mind since- well, since forever. “I shouldn’t have waited _ten_ years to do that,” he amended, and Dan’s eyes widened.

“Ten years?” he asked, and his voice was breathless, and Phil wanted to grab him and kiss him again until neither of them could breathe at all.

Dan looked sceptical, and Phil was swept over with a sudden wave of affection for this stupid boy who had no idea how captivating he was.

“Of course, silly,” he said, stopping himself from reaching out to touch him. “I can’t remember a moment when I didn’t want to kiss you.”

Phil held his breath.

The words were out.

The one secret he had always thought would stay a secret. So much bigger, and more important than anything else in his life.

And the look on Dan’s face…

“I thought you hated me for doing that,” Dan whispered.

“You’re quite thick sometimes, Dan Howell,” Phil responded immediately, wishing not for the first time that he could implant truths inside people’s brains, so that no one as incredible as Dan would ever go for a single second not knowing just how loved they were.

He bit his tongue, took a deep breath, steadied himself.

“You asked me once if I would hate you if you wanted to kiss me.” The thought made Phil want to laugh. Hate Dan for kissing him? “And I told you nothing could ever make that happen. Best friends for life, remember?”

Dan didn’t respond, not right away. Instead he looked at Phil. Really looked at him, in a way Phil had always hoped he would.

“I remember,” he said finally.

And then, for the second time in his life, Phil Lester found himself surprised by the fact of being kissed by Dan Howell.

Only this time he didn’t freeze up in shock. He didn’t stand there, stock still, just revelling in the feeling. This time, he did what he should have done two years ago, and he held on to Dan, and he kissed him right back.

He could feel himself grinning into the kiss, was certain it probably wasn’t the best kiss of Dan’s life. But he didn’t care, because it was the best kiss of _his_ life, and he would make it up to Dan next time.

He promised himself there would be a next time.

He was still smiling when Dan finally pulled away, and after a moment Dan smiled back. And Phil felt like someone had hit him in the chest and he couldn’t breathe, because at that moment, right there, Dan came back to him.

Dan, who he’d known for so long, who was his best friend, who used to sneak out at night with him, who had endured getting in the most trouble of their lives with him, who had crazy curly hair that he now tried to cover up, and dimples when he smiled (and he was finally smiling again). Dan, who made Phil smile and laugh and always get butterflies.

Dan was back.

Phil was suddenly filled with an exuberance he had never felt before, and he grabbed Dan into a hug.

“I missed you _so_ fucking much, you dick,” he whispered, because it always made Dan laugh when he swore.

Dan laughed into his shoulder.

“You too, asshole,” he said, and Phil was _so glad_.

Phil held him tighter, and Dan hugged him right back.

“I’m gay,” Phil whispered.

“Me too,” Dan exhaled back on a laugh.

“That’s okay,” murmured Phil.

“Of course it is,” said Dan. “Because you’re just the same as me.”

Phil pulled back to look at him.

“I always have been, I told you that.”

Dan shrugged.

“I was too dumb to listen.”

“That’s true,” allowed Phil, and Dan grinned.

“Everybody is staring at us,” said Dan after a moment. “Probably thinking we’re absolutely insane.”

Phil shook his head, trying to clamp down on the laughter that was bubbling up in him.

“Who cares? I don’t think you’re insane.”

“No?”

“Nope,” he said. And then, because he was ridiculous and he couldn’t help it: “I think you’re perfectly normal.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Dan with a laugh, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes,” said Phil, and he kissed him again, just a tiny brush of their lips. “I think you’re perfectly great.”

Dan ran a hand through Phil’s hair, the way he had always wished him to.

“Well I think you, Phil Lester, are perfectly bloody perfect.”

And he wasn’t perfect, of course he wasn’t, but it didn’t matter.

Because they were them again.

Phil and Dan. Dan and Phil.

And everything, finally, was wonderful.

 


End file.
